The Duel
by A-Small-Collection-Of-Nonsense
Summary: Duel's were an old SHUSH tradition.
1. Chapter 1

Inside Ludwig's office was a book, filled with pictures of SHUSH's most respected agents.

It had originally been for the founders of the organisation, but over the years it had become tradition that the best agents SHUSH had would also be put in the book.

Having your name and picture in the book made you practically royalty, and of course there was an element of fear that came with it. After all, for all the great things that the agents in that book did, there was bound to be a lot of bad things that might just out weigh it.

It took years of work to get into that book, and once word got out that Scrooge McDuck had got into it within nine months of working for SHUSH, there was outcry.

Outcry was nothing out of the ordinary for Agent McDuck, in fact over the years it had become unusual for him to walk into a room and not have at least one person threaten to kill him.

But it seemed that outcry in SHUSH headquarters was handled a little differently than he was used to.

When Scrooge had been called into Von Drake's office he and Agent 22, who after being (somewhat reluctantly) partnered with him had become his permanent companion, had fully expected Von Drake to yell at him for something or other. In fact, they'd bet five pounds that this time it would be for "Blindly running into combat".

And so the reality was a surprise to say the least.

22, or Bentina as she allowed Scrooge to call her when they weren't in the field, waited outside the office whilst Scrooge was being spoken to. She would have tried to listen in, but the door to Ludwig's office was completely soundproof.

She looked up when she heard the door opening and saw a rather dejected looking Scrooge coming out, 'Well?' She asked, concern evident in her voice.

Scrooge sighed, 'well, the bad news is that ye owe me a fiver'

Bentina raised an eyebrow, there was barley any concern in her voice this time when she asked 'And the good news?'

Scrooge replaced his sad face with a smug grin, 'You are looking at the newest picture in SHUSH's book of respected agents!'

'WHAT?!'

Bentina shot up and faced him (Scrooge had been inside a while and so she'd sat down on the floor to wait), looking shocked.

'But you've only been here a few months!'

'Ah know! Impressive, eh?'

'It's more than impressive Scrooge, that's amazing!' Bentina was smiling excitedly, Scrooge on the other hand, looked rather disappointed,

'What? Yer not annoyed? Not even a little frustrated?'

'Oh no, I am fuming, but that's fantastic, no ones ever gotten in that fast!'

Scrooge grinned, he'd thought that Bentina would have been annoyed at him, and he'd been looking forward to teasing her about it, but he couldn't say her praise was unwanted.

'Would you two buffoons quiet down? Some of us respectable agents are trying to get some work done'

Scrooge turned around and Bentina looked over his head to see a large Rottweiler poking his head out of the weaponry, looking rather annoyed. Scrooge scoffed,

'Ye know, I'd count the two agents in the book more respectable than the one who's not, agent 17'

'WHAT?! TWO?!'

'Yes, McDuck was just put in, you should really listen to what people are saying before you tell them to shut up you know'

Agent 17 growled dangerously before marching over towards them,

'This an outrage! This place has been going downhill ever since you showed up, McDuck'

'I think ye would find that there would be no SHUSH headquarters without me!'

'Oh, and how's that?'

'May I bring your mind back to the Macharanian Uprising?'

'YOU AND YOUR LITTLE FRIEND CAUSED THAT UPRISING'

'Well first of all, we also stopped it, and second of all, 22 is many things but little isnae one of them'

Bentina, who had been watching the interaction as if it were a mildly interesting soap opera, nodded in agreement.

Agent 17 turned towards her,

'And you!'

'Here we go'

'Personally I think the two of you are perfect partnership - nothing but trouble the both of you!'

'And what, pray tell, have I done that's so' she made speech marks with her hands 'troublesome?'

Agent 17 snorted with laughter ' I should think it's obvious, honestly I don't know why they ever let you in here, I've never trusted you!'

'Would it kill you to tell me why?'

He growled again, seemingly under the impression that she knew fine and well what he was talking about,

'Well, there's nothing that brings people closer than shared blood'

That struck a nerve with both Scrooge and Bentina.

Bentina stepped closer towards him, they were now inches apart, and Bentina had to crane her neck to look him in the eye (an action she was not used to, Rottweilers were very large animals).

'I have, and have never had, anything in common with my father'

'Oh is that so?'

'Yes. It. Is'

'Hmmm, I'm sure, well I'll leave you two to it then'

'Oh you do not get to walk away from me!'

Bentina grabbed hold of his arm as he made to leave, and now both agents had the same dangerous fury in their eyes, so much that Scrooge decided to take a step back.

'First you insult my partner, who, might I add, is twice the agent you could ever dream of being, and then you dare bring my father into the argume-'

'Back of the fifth storage room, midnight, fists bared, weapons spared'

Bentina blinked in surprise, and took a step back, letting go of his arm.

'What? I hardly thi-'

'Oh, I see how it is'

'Oh?'

'Yes, scared, 22?'

Bentina looked uncertain for a moment, before a look of determination took over her face, 'Never'

17 smiled.

The two shook hands,

'May the gods take pity'

They said it together, but with two different tones, Bentina was cold, and held no emotion, while 17 was grinning confidently, and sounded like he might start laughing any second.

And with that, Agent 17 turned and walked briskly down the hallway, past the weaponry and presumably to his quarters.

Bentina turned to do the same, but Scrooge stopped her.

'Wait you a minute!'

'Scrooge, I'm a little busy right now'

'Ah don't care! What the hell was that?!'

Scrooge had a strange mix of anger and confusion on his face that Bentina would have laughed at in any other situation. Instead, she sighed, 'I've just been challenged to a duel'

'A duel?! What is this, the dark ages?!'

'It's an old SHUSH tradition, if an argument between agents got out of hand, one would challenge the other to a duel'

'I'd hardly call that argument out of hand!'

'I know! But I couldn't just say no to a duel!'

'Why?!'

'Because it's the most cowardly thing an agent can do'

She left at that, brushing past him and walking towards the training room, leaving Scrooge alone in the corridor.

If anyone asked, he wasn't worried, just annoyed at his partners idiocy.

If anyone read his mind, they'd know the truth.

。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。

It was almost midnight, and all was silent.

Being a SHUSH agent meant early starts, late nights, and generally just awful sleep schedules, but the agency ensured that quiet peacefulness was maintained after eleven, so that any agents trying to get some shut eye were able to, even if half the agency was awake.

Bentina usually liked the quiet, it was calm, and it gave her time to herself. She liked the hours when she could work in silence, without a single interruption.

She smiled to herself as she realised just how long it had been since she'd been at headquarters for the silent hours.

Ever since Christmas, Bentina had spent much of her free time at McDuck Manor. Every time he went home, Scrooge would ask her if she wanted to come, and she would think for a moment. At first she'd think no, she couldn't possibly, she had far to much work to do.

But then she'd think of how nice it was to step into the warmth of the huge mansion, and have little Della follow her around and look at her like she was royalty, and the way Donald's sarcasm, dark sense of humour and general rudeness towards his Uncle made her laugh, and how much she wanted to annoy Duckworth and oh alright, but she'd stay at SHUSH tomorrow!

But she didn't stay at SHUSH the next day, or the day after that, she'd bring her paperwork to the mansion, and it wasn't as if the manor was in short supply of training equipment.

She wasn't quite sure when she'd started thinking of it as home, but perhaps it was the day that McDuck had taken the day off to spend a full day adventuring with the kids, and whilst in her quarters late that night she'd gotten a phone-call asking why she hadn't come home, and her tired 'Because i don't live with you?' was met with the phone being snatched out of Scrooge's hand by Della, who proceeded to loudly proclaim that yes she did, because she was family, and no she didn't get a say in the matter, and she could hear Donald's grumble of agreement, Scrooge's chuckle, and Duckworth's faint 'as much as it pains me, Miss Della is correct'.

She'd returned "Home" that same night, and received a snarky lecture from Duckworth about proper sleep schedules after he'd seen the bags under her eyes (The last few days at work had been stressful, but that answer was inadequate) and returning home at a reasonable hour so's not to disturb the rest of the family, a lecture from Della about how she'd missed movie night of all nights (Donald had rolled his eyes and gone back upstairs when his sister started yelling, but she'd seen the relief on his face when she came through the door), and when they'd gone, Scrooge punched her in the stomach for scaring him, her response of 'You know perfectly well I can take care of myself' was met with grumbling and a warning to let him know the next time she planned on coming home this late.

Or maybe it was the next day when she'd come home with a bag full of her things.

She didn't own much, just clothes, some trinkets and far to many weapons to be considered anything close to normal. Working for SHUSH didn't leave much time to spoil herself, and she didn't have from her childhood that held any sentimental value (Well, aside from tattered old Agent 8, who was missing an arm now, that she'd found in her fathers case files. He sat on her dresser not doing very much, but she felt a certain unease whenever she moved him from his designated spot).

That was the day that the guest room down the hall from the twin's room on the second floor became her room.

She liked her room much better then she'd liked her quarters. SHUSH hadn't allowed any decorations, but her room did. She was free to do with that room as she pleased (That wasn't to say she wasn't welcome to in the rest of the house, because nothing could stop Agent 22 from making sure everything looked perfect), and so she did.

Over the months she'd stayed there the room had changed. She'd shifted all the old boxes out and into the garage (Which had resulted in a face off with the ghost of Billivan's Cathedral), and dusted until every surface gleamed. The bedsheets were a a warm purple, and the pillows cream, on each side of the queen sized bed were nightstands, the one on the side of the bed she slept on had a lamp, usually a cup of tea, and old Agent 8 had taken up permanent residence there. She'd placed some of her trinkets on the dresser, and her grappling hook and hand gun lay in the middle of them (The rest of her weapons were stored in the manor's own weaponry). That had been it at the start, but then of course the twins saw it and decided that it was far to boring for their liking. It seemed every time she came into the room there was something different about it. At first it had been subtle things that she might not have noticed if she hadn't been a trained agent, like an action figure amongst the ornaments, or some CDs (the CDs were gone the next time she came in, and judging by the yelling from down the hall she guessed Della had stolen them from her brother).

Then there was the pictures.

It had been a long day at work, so she'd almost missed it when she came in to her room, fully intending throw herself at her bed and sleep with in the next few seconds, but she'd seen it from the corner of her eye.

It was a picture that had been taken of her, Della and Donald. It was from the plane ride home from one of their adventures, when she'd been hit with a dart by one of the locals. It wasn't dangerous, but it made her overly cheerful and rather delusional. The picture was of her balancing a twin on each shoulder, Della had a fist in the air and you could practically hear her cheer of delight, Donald was clinging on to her for dear life, but there was a slight smile in his face. She herself was had her eyes closed, and was grinning like an idiot.

She chuckled at the picture, and left it as it was.

That was months ago, and now there was far more pictures on the dresser, so much that she'd had to put her hand gun and grappling hook into the wardrobe. There was pictures of the entire family, Duckworth included, out on adventures, in the house, or in some cases simply doing things that made her smile. There was a couple of herself, but always with other people.

The room was hers, and she liked it.

McDuck Manor was her new home, and she liked it.

However much it aggravated her, the Manor felt empty without the sounds of laughing, or bickering or whatever other loud noises the family could find a way to make.

And SHUSH head quarters during the silent hours felt so lonely.

Especially since she was about to have a duel.

A duel that could change her life.

Fighting off FOWL agents was a dream compared to a duel, because when fighting a FOWL Agent there was no rules, but when fighting a duel there was, and not following those rules could lead to the same, if not worse, consequences that would be met should the fight be lost.

But Bentina didn't have time to think about all that, she had a duel to fight, in ten minutes.


	2. Chapter 2

She'd timed everything perfectly, the second the clock struck twelve was the exact second she arrived, and saw Agent 17 waiting for her.

'So glad you've arrived, I was beginning to think you'd forfeited' he said with a grin, god she hated that smile.

She narrowed her eyes, her glare even more piercing than it usually was, 'Well, you thought wrong'

Agent 17 scoffed and stood up straight (he'd been leaning lazily on the wall), 'Of course'

He walked towards her, making sure to remind her just how much bigger he was than her, and stopped fifteen steps away from her.

That was how duels started, the participants fifteen spaces apart.

'Would you perhaps like to know the details of the duel?' Agent 17 asked.

The challenger of the duel was the one to decide what would happen to the winner and the looser, it gave them somewhat of an advantage, but that was just how it was done.

'I believe that is somewhat necessary'

Agent 17 grinned again, it was a rather odd grin, Bentina noted.

'The winner remains as they were, nothing changes, they walk away from the fight the same as they walked towards it' he paused for dramatic affect, and Bentina raised her eyebrow, waiting for the catch. Agent 17 lowered his voice to a loud whisper, 'And the looser marches themselves right up to Ludwig's Office, and resigns'

'Fantastic', she thought to herself, 'just fantastic'.

Agent 17's smiled widened, 'Shall we begin?'

Agent 22's glare, somehow, became even more intimidating, 'We certainly shall'

Perhaps the duel wouldn't have started had Bentina noticed they were being watched.

The duel was going well, Bentina realised with relief as she sent her fifth consecutive punch into her opponent's stomach.

The duel had been even at the start, with Agent 17's size giving him a slight advantage, but her skills evening things out. But somehow, and she was inclined put this down to years of intense training, she'd managed to gain the upper hand.

In order to win the duel, she had to ensure that her opponent was unable to move for ten seconds, which was easier said than done. She had a plethora of ways to do this, but she figured the best way to do it would be to hold him down, after all, just because she had the upper hand didn't mean that Agent 17 was hopeless, she highly doubted she could render him unconscious.

They'd been fighting for a while, she wasn't sure how exactly how long, when she saw her opportunity. She'd managed to get behind him for just a second, and before he could turn around and make his move, she leapt at him, pinning him down to the ground.

Agent 17 let out a series of curses that would've made Donald and Scrooge jealous as she grabbed one of his arms and held it behind his back, the other hand becoming trapped beneath him when he hit the ground, and began counting down from ten in her head.

'Ten'

Agent 17 managed, somehow, to send a painful kick to her back that almost made her let go of him. Almost.

'Nine'

'You'll regret this, 22!'

'Whatever you say, 17'

'Eight'

Agent 17 gave a rage filled battle cry and began violently shake his entire body.

'Seven'

She repositioned herself so that her knee was digging into his back, stopping him from shaking quite so violently.

'Six'

Agent 17 sighed, 'Oh, blast it'

'Five'

The agent beneath her howled. Not in pain, no, this sounded like a signal…

'Fou-'

Bentina suddenly felt a sharp pain in her shoulder, and was promptly thrown off of Agent 17. She landed with a thud not to far a way from him, and saw two large shadows looming over her head. She looked upwards, and was greeted by two masked men raising their weapons above themselves to hit her, one had a baseball bat, and the other had some sort of spiked cane.

Using her non-injured arm, she managed to push herself away just as both weapons hit the ground, and seeing the spike of the cane become stuck in the stone floor made her all the more glad she'd made it away in time.

Just as Bentina began to get up off the floor to face her new opponents, someone kicked her in the back, shoving her down so she was lying on the floor and standing with the same foot on her back, preventing her from even seeing who'd done it, let alone getting up.

There was low chuckling from all around her as more masked men and women (All resembling the shape of Doberman, she noticed) revealed themselves from the shadows, each bearing their own weapon.

'And what the bloody hell is this?' She asked with teeth gritted, sending her signature death glare to everyone she could see, and feeling a bit of triumph as one or two stepped back, and another whimpered.

There was a laugh, much louder than the low chuckles from before, and the crowd of what she assumed were Doberman parted as Agent 17 made his way towards her, grinning like a madman. He crouched down so he was at eye level with her, 'I think it's safe to say that this' he gestured to his companions, 'is an invasion'.

Bentina spat on his face.

The Doberman holding her down pressed his foot harder onto her back, and several of the others prepared their weapons to attack.

Agent 17 held his hand out, signalling for them to stop. He wiped the spit from his face, gave her a glare that rivalled her own, and slapped her.

Hard.

He did it again for good measure.

He stood up suddenly, and turned to three of his men, 'Jones, MacinTosh, Thomason, march our Agent's straight up to the Ludwig's office, apprehend anyone in your way' he ordered, and the three men saluted, marching off with a troop of Agents following. 'Smith, notify FOWL headquarters of the invasion' he said to an agent who'd stayed behind. Bentina had already guessed that this was FOWL's doing, and that just confirmed it. Agent 17, which was most definitely not his name, looked to the lingering FOWL Agents, consisting of the one holding her down, the two she'd first seen and Smith, 'You lot' he said, his glare turning into a grin, 'Keep our guest entertained'

The Agents sneered, and as Agent 17 turned and walked off in the direction the FOWL Agents had just gone, his head held high, Bentina felt someone roughly grabbing her arms and pulling them behind her back. A rope was tied tightly around her wrists, and the agents moved to do the same to her legs. The Agent who'd been holding her down finally moved his foot, if only to reposition so she could move even less (He had her head held against the ground and one knee was pressed into her back), as the Agents tied her legs in three different places.

By the time they had finished, the Agent holding her down was able to step back without worrying of her escaping – she could barley move an inch. One Agent had decided to gag her, so she was unable to do so much as threaten them.

'Your work on the shoulders rather sloppy, Smith' said the one holding the spiked cane, 'Perhaps you should finish it off properly?'

Smith smiled, and brought out a sharp sliver blade (It wasn't the sharpest knife she'd ever seen), and Bentina guessed it had been him that had thrown her off Agent 17 in the first place, and judging by the blood adorning the blade the pain in her shoulder had been him stabbing her.

As Smith came towards her, Bentina couldn't help but remember that there had been four FOWL Agents left behind to keep an eye on her.

So who was the fifth?


	3. Chapter 3

The fifth FOWL Agent looked just the same as the other Agents, with black clothes wrapped around his body save for his eyes and beak, and combat boots that looked a tad to big. Of course the fact that he or she was clearly a duck made them stand out quite a bit, but there was always a chance that it was a coincidence.

A small chance.

He stood to the side of the group of agents, watching everything play out. He didn't seem to have a weapon, and Bentina wondered why since, by the look of him, he didn't seem like he'd be able to fight off bullets with his bare hands.

Though now, Bentina decided as Smith crouched next to her and positioned his knife on her uninjured shoulder, was not the time to make such observations.

Bentina fought her restraints as Smith brushed the blade against her shoulder, laughing as she cursed up a storm through the gag and struggled helplessly against the ropes.

Helpless.

Agent Bentina Beakley, was helpless.

It was situations like this that made being an Agent a rather undesirable job.

She loved her job, but it was without a doubt going to be the very thing that killed her.

'Wait!'

All the Agents, Bentina included, whipped around to the source of the outburst, which was none other than the fifth Agent.

Smith raised his eyebrow, 'Would you care to explain just why I should stop?'

The Agent holding the bat snickered, 'Maybe he wants you to do it to him instead'

It was the Agent with the cane who seemed to be on the same wavelength as Bentina, 'More to the point, when the bloody hell did you get here!?'

The fifth Agent didn't hesitate in his response, 'I was sent down to inform you of new orders'

The fifth Agent's accent was English, high class sounding, and his voice vaguely familiar, Bentina had a feeling she'd heard it a thousand times before, though she wasn't quite sure where.

'Oh?' Said Smith, shoving Bentina roughly to the side (and ignoring her muffled death threats) as he slowly stood up and made his way toward the fifth agent, with a murderous look in his eyes. 'And just what, pray tell, are these new orders?' he asked, towering over the fifth Agent in a manner that reminded her of Agent 17.

The fifth Agent didn't seem all that bothered by this, giving the Bentina the impression that he was just a little bit overconfident, considering Smith's advantage in size and weaponry.

The black clad duck, completely blanking Smith, walked over to where she lay, and turned to face the Agents, 'The boss has instructed you to make your way up to Ludwig's office with the rest of the Agents, he has…' he seemed to hesitate for a moment, and glance down at Bentina as if she would help him, '…plans'.

The Agents with the spiked cane and baseball bat glanced at each other before shrugging, and going towards the exit, only to be yanked back by the Agent who'd held her down.

'Wait you just a minute!' He said, shoving them back to where they'd been standing, 'How do we know he's telling the truth?'

'Exactly what I was going to say, Agent Quackintosh' Smith agreed (Quackintosh looked very proud of himself), glaring down at the fifth Agent, 'especially since I don't seem to recall seeing you around before'

The two agents she'd first seen (She would call them 'the twins' she decided, they looked very similar in size and she had names for all the other agents watching her) readied their weapons at this, ready to strike on Smith's command, but still the fifth Agent was unbothered.

'Well, I suppose you're correct, there really is no way you could know I'm telling the truth, is there?' He admitted in a very clear fake sad tone, 'You'll just have to take your chance won't you? And just hope that I'm not telling the truth'

One of the twins raised an eyebrow at this, 'Why would we hope that?' She asked, her bat still prepared to attack, 'Yes,' agreed the other, 'Why should we?'

'Well I certainly wouldn't want to be the one suffering the consequences of disobeying an order' replied the fifth Agent, his fake tone replaced with the same tone of confidence he'd used before, and Bentina was fairly certain she'd noticed some inconsistencies regarding his accent.

The Agents exchanged glances, all of them seeming slightly more convinced to do as they were instructed with the threat of punishment from their boss.

Quackintosh and the twins nodded to each other, and began to leave the scene.

'OI! Just where are you lot off to?!' Smith half shouted after them, and Quackintosh turned around, 'Sorry Smith, but the bloke's got a point'

'Yeah, I haven't seen Quinn since she told Dobson to shove it' One of the twins added

'I have The other replied

'Really?'

'Yeah, her head's on his wall'

'Damn'

Their voices became quieter as they walked further and further away, leaving Smith alone with Bentina and the fifth Agent.

Bentina wasn't sure what the best case scenario would be at the moment, whether she'd rather Smith or the fifth Agent.

Smith would most likely slowly torture her (Probably with that knife of his, since all his other choice of weapons had left alongside their owners), but then again he seemed rather angry now, so there was also a chance he'd kill her in his rage. Though she also wasn't sure whether or not Agent 17, or Dobson, wanted her alive or not, so perhaps he'd torture her faster instead.

But when it came to the fifth Agent, she was having a hard time deciding what he would do. He was overconfident and rather cocky seeming, so if he did decide to take a lead out of Smiths book and submit her to some form of torture he'd probably have some sort of monologue to go with it, which was most likely the worst form of torture. It'd be slow, she thought, he'd want to enjoy doing it, and he'd probably have some sort of creative way of doing it to her, he seemed like the sort of duck to go all out on these kind of things.

In the end she decided she was stuffed no matter what happened.

She wondered what would happen, as she watched Smith and the fifth Agent have some sort of high stakes staring contest. The fifth Agent was (unsurprisingly at this point) smirking, while Smith was wearing what Bentina had come to understand as his signature glare.

The first outcome Bentina could think of was that Smith would comply and follow after the others leaving her alone with the fifth Agent.

The second outcome that came to mind was that Smith would lose it and attack the fifth Agent, who, unarmed and considerably smaller than him, would most likely end up being killed, leaving her alone with Smith

The third was that the fifth Agent would allow Smith to stay with him, leaving her at the mercy of two FOWL Agents, which was definitely not the best scenario. Though she had to admit, judging by the staring contest that was still going on, option number three was highly unlikely

Fortunately for her, Smith decided to go for the second option.

He lunged towards the fifth Agent, knife in hand, who rolled out of the way, leaving Smith do land with the knife dangerously close to Bentina's head. The fifth Agent looked almost concerned when he turned around to see where Smith had landed, but Bentina brushed it off as shock and focused on trying to escape her bindings and trying to make her death threats as clear as possible through the gag.

Smith whipped around with almost animalistic fury and took another lunge towards the fifth Agent, who dodger again, and fortunately for Bentina, Smith was was facing the other direction and was in no danger of accidentally hitting her.

Smith turned to face the fifth Agent once again, this time opting not to line again.

The fifth Agent looked unimpressed, but not angry. More like a parent who's child was misbehaving, 'and just how are you going to explain this one to Mr Dobs?' He asked, eyebrow raised and his tone almost curious.

Smith glared, 'It's protocol', Bentina was he one to raise an eyebrow at that, 'If an Agent gives orders without proof, the leading member of the group should take action' he recited from what Bentina assumes was FOWL's protocol's, which she decided weren't half as good as SHUSH's, and took a jab at the fifth Agent.

This, was not a good move on his part.

Within a matter of seconds the fifth Agent had Smith in a headlock with his knife pressed against his neck.

'Alright sonny, here's what you're going to do' the fifth agent's voice was low and almost dangerous, and Bentina swore she could hear Smith whimpering, 'You're going to march yourself right up after your friends and you're going to do. As. You. Were. Told. Is that clear?'

Smith growled in response, and the fifth Agent retaliated by pressing the knife just slightly harder against his neck, not enough to draw blood, but enough to make any smart man worried for his safety, 'Is that clear?'

'Ugh-Yes!'

'That's yes sir to you'

The fifth Agent let him go, and Smith stumbled away from him, gasping for breath, apparently the knife had been pressed on such a manner that breathing had become an issue. He glance back at the fifth Agent, who closed the pocket knife and kept a firm grip on it, allowing Smith to realise that the likelihood of him getting his knife back was low.

With a final death glare, Smith turned on his heel and ran on the direction of Quackintosh and the Twins.

The fifth Agent turned and walked towards Bentina.

Ignoring her language and struggling, he gently propped her up against a crate so she was sitting, and took out Smith's knife. The volume of Bentina's fowl (No pun intended) language increased to a point that you could just about make out what she was saying as the fifth Agent brought the knife to her face,

and cut the gag off.

Bentina spat out the cloth that had been in her mouth and tried to relax her jaw after it being in the same position for so long. She looked to the fifth Agent,

'what are you doing?' She asked him incredulously, she wasn't opposed to the gag being taken form her beak, but there was always the question of why.

'I've had tae take a leaf out of your book, 22'

The fifth Agent's voice was no longer English and high class, but a never-quite-so-wonderful-as-it-was-in-that-moment Scottish one.

The fifth Agent took off his mask, and gave her an overconfident and oh so infuriating grin, 'I followed protocol'

'Scrooge?!'


	4. Chapter 4

'The one and only'

'Wha- How?!'

'I told ye, I followed protocol'

'Which one?'

'You expect me to memorise them?'

'Yes'

'I've saved your life and you expect me to memorise protocol for you?'

'I do it for you all the time'

Scrooge sighed dramatically, 'Ah dunno which one it was' he broke into his signature grin as he spoke, 'So yer just gonnae have tae listen to my retelling of events'

It was Bentina's turn to sigh dramatically, 'must you?'

'Of course'

'Can you at lea-'

'No'

Bentina rolled her eyes.

Scrooge had decided long ago that the only archives worth trusting we're his own. However, having never even heard of duels within SHUSH enterprises, he supposed that the likelihood of there being information on them in his library was little to none.

So that's how he found himself, several hours after Bentina had left to train for her duel, searching through SHUSH's vast archives for any information on duels.

It had crossed his mind to use some of the tech SHUSH supplied to make searching through the library easier, before remembering that in order to use them you needed a password, and the last time he'd tried to guess it he'd gotten it wrong and sent all of SHUSH into lockdown since protocol apparently stated that if the password to the tech was put in incorrectly, there was always a chance it might be a FOWL Agent, and therefore everything went on hold until someone of high authority (Or an Agent 22 who was sick and tired of her partners bullcrap) gave the all clear, which Scrooge though was unnecessary. Still, he hadn't been given the password and for once in his life he was going for subtlety, so he searched through the archives one book at a time.

Agent 22 would have found the book in seconds, he thought to himself as he picked up a book titled "Sixty-one ways to disarm a bomb, Volume VI" and promptly shoved it back into the shelf, if she wasn't training or working (which wasn't much) she could usually be found in the library re reading one of the books, as she'd apparently read them all.

But Agent 22 was most likely punching the living daylights out of some poor innocent punching bag in one of the training rooms, and he doubted she'd be interested in helping him stop the duel.

There was something about Agent 17 that rubbed Scrooge the wrong way, perhaps it was his general douchebag personality, but he had a feeling it was something else.

It was something about the time he spent hidden away in weaponries, something about how he never seemed to go on missions, something about how much he despised him and 22 that just made him certain that this wasn't just over his placement in the book.

The weaponries were small and only had so much to offer, the Agents were on a rota of who cleaned them and when, though whenever he and Agent 22 were tasked with it he usually made some sort of excuse about needing to go home and check on the twins, or he'd "test" the weapons as Agent 22 cleaned them. But apart from running in to grab a spare handgun and the cleaning rota, there just wasn't anything to do in there, and yet Agent 17 seemed never to be out of them.

Every SHUSH Agent went on missions, it was the whole reason they worked at SHUSH, it was their job for God's sake. Some went less than others, like Agent 19 for example, who spent most of his time doing paperwork instead of being out in the field, or Agent 25, who balanced being an Agent and being a trainer at the same time. But no matter what, every Agent went on missions.

Scrooge was fairly certain he'd seen Agent 17 in the field once, and that was only because he'd been needed as backup.

And Scrooge couldn't think of one other person in all of SHUSH who hated him and Agent 22 more than Agent 17. Of course Scrooge wasn't all that popular, but he was still respected, and no one was really sure if Agent 22 was respected, loved, or feared, or perhaps all three. But Agent 17 held no respect for either one of them, in fact, he was on their back's at least three times every day. Yesterday's had been for "Not doing an efficient job at cleaning the weapons", and he wasn't about to believe that there really was a tiny civilisation living on top of that particular one that just needed a couple weeks to move all their supplies before they could clean it properly, "Hogging that kitchen", which they weren't hogging it anyway, no other agents used it, though they did kick Agent 17 out so that might have been a reasonable argument in his case, and "making googly eyes at that kitchen lady", that one had no excuse, so Scrooge had punched him in the stomach and 22 had continued making those "googly eyes" at the the aforementioned kitchen lady just to spite him, and the kitchen lady had overheard the whole conversation and had convinced the other cooks not to make anything for Agent 17, so now he had to make the food for himself.

So of course it hadn't been surprising when 17 had poked his head out of one of the weaponries to tell them off, but it had been surprising when he'd brought up Mr Beakley.

Scrooge clenched his fists just thinking about that.

Scrooge had spent quite some time trying to convince 22 to go see a doctor about her childhood, but she insisted that it hadn't left any lasting issues, and no that time she'd almost had a panic attack because that laughter in one of the changing rooms was terrifyingly familiar did not count, nor when they'd been walking down the street and she'd seen a scrappy looking dog climbing through the window of large house and Scrooge had to remind her that it wasn't her fathers house and that the gentleman would be just fine. Neither did the time they'd overheard that two newer agents were going after someone named Lillian Quackson and she'd had a panic attack before anyone had time to tell her that it was a different Quackson family, and of course that one time when Scrooge had left a bar of gold lying around and the twins had decided that the best kind of sword was absolutely a gold one and tried to fashion one out of it, but promptly given up and left the rather sharp block of gold lying around, and when she'd glanced at it (it was the sort of one second glance you do where you don't really see what you're looking at) she'd thought for a terrifying moment it was Quackson's knife. Or when Ludwig tried to make a deal with Scrooge and wouldn't say what it was and she started having flashbacks, or when she'd come home having not slept in three days and heard Duckworth shouting at the twins after one of their pranks had gone wrong and endangered their Uncle's life and she'd forgotten where she was and was absolutely certain her father was coming, or when Scrooge wore a top hat with a red ribbon for a mission and it had to be replaced with the usual white one because 22 found herself unable to look at it without thinking of Quackson.

No, there was no trauma whatsoever.

But she still refused point blank to go to a therapist, and so the only time she was ever able to talk about it was when Scrooge noticed something was up and managed to weasel the truth out of her.

Needles to say with all this and the fact that Jonathon Beakley deserved the award for "World's most accomplished prick" considered, Agent 17 comparing her to him had been a low blow.

Scrooge had been fully prepared to fight him there and then, but 22 had beat him to it.

He'd be lying if he wasn't wondering how on earth 17 knew about 22's father, the only agents apart from himself who knew about 22's Family were 13, 04, 18, 05 and 15, since it was them who had been on the mission on the night of the "trade".

All the other Agents knew was that the five of them had left Ona highly confidential mission involving Mr. Beakley and Quackson, and returned with a new recruit.

Of course rumours spread, but according to 22 they ranged from 'She's secretly a FOWL Agent sent to kill us all' to 'She's one of 15's cousins who came to help and just stuck around' so she hadn't worried about them, and besides they'd died down now.

So perhaps Agent 17 had simply taken a lucky guess? Unlikely.

'Midnight?'

'Yup'

'Christ that's quick'

Scrooge stopped what he was doing as he heard the all too familiar voice of Agent 17 enter the library. There was someone else there too, but since he couldn't pin point exactly where the two of them were he had no idea who it was, and he didn't recognise the voice either, which was a slight red flag.

Using the one of the ladders scattered around the library for access to higher shelves he managed to clamber up on top of one of the book cases, and peered over the top to get a good look at the two Agents.

If that's what they were, of course.

Agent 17's friend was tall and lean, a Doberman just like him, dressed in black clothes, and with some sort of weapon tucked away in them. He was looking at Agent 17, which, Scrooge decided, was probably not his name, with mild concern,

'You said it'd take at least another month before you could get her in the right place'

Scrooge narrowed his eyes at that, he had been right about the duel.

Agent 17 shrugged, 'I saw an opportunity and I took it'

'With all due respect sir, shouldn't we postpone? The Agents still need to prepa-'

'Oh, so you think I should call off a bloody duel, do you?'

'I-'

'Do you even know the importance of a duel?'

Agent 17's friend (Friend was he wrong word but Scrooge was sticking with it) suddenly became very interested with the ground.

17, without even glancing at the bookshelf, grabbed a book and shoved it into his companion's chest, said companion looked at the title and then at Agent 17, with a confused expression, 'Mr Dobs, sir, this book is titled "how to properly sacrifice-'

'For God's sake Smith!'

Agent 17, or Mr Dobs, grabbed the book from his friend, who was named Smith apparently, and opened it, 'It's in code you buffoon!'

Scrooge groaned quietly, of course it was in code.

'It's in all the ruddy books!'

Scrooge fought the urge to slam his head against the bookshelf, of course it was in all of them.

Dobs pointed at something in the book that Scrooge couldn't see, 'what do you notice about this sentence?'

Smith inspected it for a second before deciding the answer was 'it doesn't have a capital letter?'

'Well done Smith, would you like a medal?'

'Sir I don't-'

'Of for the love of –' Dobs pauses midway through his sentence and took a deep breath, 'Smith, there are a good deal of sentences in every book in this library that have no capital letter at the beginning of them' he spoke in the same tone one might use to explain two plus two to a five year old, 'and when you put them together, they explain the rules for a duel'

Smith nodded in understanding.

'All except for one, "Sixty-one ways to disarm a bomb, Volume VI"'

Scrooge felt a strong urge to yank the feathers from his head.

'That one explains the history if you unravel some new code, I just got 14 to tell me though'

Smith nodded again, but looked unsure,

'Sir I still don't see wh-'

Dobs grabbed hold of Smith's shirt and yanked him so his beak was inches from his own, 'If you had the brain cells necessary to comprehend a child's homework, you would have read the code and realised that to refuse or call of a duel is the single most cowardly thing any agent can do'

Dobs' voice was low and menacing, it would have been alarming if he hadn't tried that on him and 22 on several occasions, and been met with a punch in the face.

Whilst he watched Dobs let Smith go and tell him to scram before someone realised he was here, a plan began to formulate in Scrooge's mind as he actually remembered something that might be useful from one of 22's many lectures regarding protocols.

。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。

'Look, Scrooge, I'm very proud of you for supposedly following protocol, but would it kill you to untie me before you continue?'

'Yes, yes it would'

Bentina groaned, 'Will you just do it?'

'I'm not finished, besides there's no rush'

'I want to punch you so badly right now'

'See this is why I haven't untied you yet'

'I hate you'

'No you don't'

'So anyway' Scrooge continued, standing up for dramatic effect, 'A pla-'

'Could you at least hurry it up? You've been rambling for hours'

Scrooge checked his watch, 'Half an hour actually'

'Whatever'

Scrooge sighed, 'Right, long story short I warned Ludwig about 17, he told everyone to be on their guard, we found out what they were up to, ambushed the FOWL Agents when they came up and I went undercover to save your arse'

'Language!'

'Really? You completely kill the flow of my story and that's your only comment?'

'Just untie me'

'You're impossible'

'Thanks'

As Scrooge moved to begin untying her, he couldn't help but notice her shoulder,

'22, is that blood?'

'…No?'

Scrooge glared at his partner

'Why didn't you tell me you were bleeding?!'

'If I'm perfectly honest I forgot'

'How do you forget you're bleeding?!'

'I got used to the pain'

Scrooge decided it was best not to reply, and set to work untying his friend as quickly as he could, feeling slightly guilty for leaving her like this for so long when he stopped again,

'Is that more?!'

'Where?'

'In yer other shoulder, right down to yer side, when did he do that?!'

'Just before you decided to intervene I think

Scrooge looked even more guilty, 'I thought he hadn't started when I shouted'

'Surprise'

'Come on, let's get you untied and back home so Duckworth can tend to ye'

・°・°・°・°・°・°・°・°・°・°・°・°・°

When Scrooge entered Bentina's room it was late, and she was lying in bed, bandaged up and not even half awake looking.

He would have come sooner, but Ludwig had wanted a report on everything that had happened, so he'd had no choice but to send Bentina back to Duckburg alone and have Duckworth pick her up. Then there had been an issue with a toxic gas leak that he'd had to help with and then Ludwig had called him into his office for a meeting that seemed to last forever, and he no one present seemed bothered by the fact that he had to get home soon.

Bentina looked up at his entrance, and gave a small smile,

'Hey'

Scrooge smiled back, through slightly concerned at her wording, Bentina never said "Hey" unless she was weak or tired or both, and walked over and sat perched on the bed, 'Hey'

She glanced over at the clock on the wall, 'You're late home, what happened?'

Scrooge's sighed, 'SHUSH stuff, I'll tell you in the morning'

'Why is it you only tell me things when it's inconvenient?'

Scrooge chuckled, 'Its more fun that way'

Bentina yawned, 'Funny how getting stabbed tired you, isn't it?' She commented in a half asleep tone, and Scrooge had a feeling she wouldn't remember any of this come morning,

'Aye, he wouldn't expect that would ye?'

'Hmm'

Bentina rolled over from her back to her side, trying desperately to keep her eyes open. Scrooge smiled fondly and began running his fingers gently through her hair.

They stayed like that for a little while, Bentina dozing off and him stroking her hair gently.

'Bentina?'

'Yeah?'

'You do know that you are, and never have been and never will be, anything like your father?'

'…yeah, he's a dickhead'

Scrooge laughed loudly and then smirked, and in what was a rather frighteningly good impression of her accent said, 'language!'

But Bentina was already asleep.


End file.
